The Hug

Bukola’s hug snuffed the life out of me. It was unexpected, uncalculated, all I knew was that I was engulfed in her arms and she pressed in hard. I had offered my hands and a broad smile in my characteristic manner with all ladies but somehow (I can’t explain) she jumped that barrier and threw a hug at me, unfortunately my instinct was not to dodge.

The effect of the hug was remarkable, coming at the verge of my psychological loneliness and feeling of never being considered by ladies. Nneoma had grown distant from me, and so any psychological connection I had with any human was severed. So, I was all the while on the mechanical mode of life. On the pervading feeling of never being attractive to ladies, it was because none of them ever went out of their way to just get a talk with me, and whenever I did talk, they kept it short and simple – like they didn’t want to have any dealings beyond the official. I am not talking about romantic dealings but friendship. So, getting a hug at that time without asking for it was nothing short of snuffing out.

The talk show was an obvious success – I made a lively guest. The convener was excited, the hosts were too. And I guess Bukola was thrilled too. I guess that was why she threw herself at me.

I had met her at brief times before, not much of a talk between us but just greetings in the company of Prince. And my other guest appearances with Prince was not much of a success – they were just not  failures – and he had not invited me since then.

I left the conference room with a feeling of guilt. A Christian man should shun such hugs but I didn’t. Much worse, a part of me enjoyed the hug and tried to remake it or analyze it. I made concerted effort to keep it out of mind and to forgive myself – or explain to myself that it would have been embarrassing to turn down such ‘sincere’ hug. The sincerity is in question though. And if she had spiritual ramifications, one can’t tell – after all we are in Africa where necromancy is a deal.